


Monologuing in the Mornings

by orphan_account



Series: Matt and Daly [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Craig takes himself way to seriously, Excessive Fancy Words, Fluff and Humour, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:25:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5068918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Monologuing in the Mornings

The ink flowed from the pen, in the early morning light the lines and swirls of black against white stood in stark contrast to the honeyed glow spilling over the window sill. But even through the odd hour, inspiration had struck our artist on a sleepless night. Helpless to my muse, invention and ingenuity came pouring from within my very soul, cascading over the barrier of illusion and reality to become a palpable presence in the world.

With delicate brushes I gave the finishing touches to my masterpiece. Simple, yet enriched with meaning. Controlled, yet full of the wild mischievous nature of life.

 

"Ugghhh..."

 

Alas, through no fault of the creator the canvas was stirred. As my work was moving, yours truly could only pause and watch in rapture as lines changed, shades shifted and the artwork was bequeathed with a new life in animation.

 

"Craig, what are you doing up? It's barely daylight."

 

My project, a thing of imminent beauty, had a sense of innocence in this wondrous moment. The model, unaware and drowsily recovering from his slumber, could not comprehend the majesty that was currently his visage. A faint stringing together of grumbles and half coherent mumbles was heard, but then Matt focused on the pen in rapid alarm.     

 

"Are you _drawing_  on me?"

 

Woe, true genius is always misunderstood. Fated to be cast aside in the muddy ditch of humanity. How cruel this world can be to the blameless, who's only wish is to spread the joy that their awe-inspiring gifts can bring. How many poor creatures like the one before me have turned themselves away from the enjoyment of my handiwork.

 

"You're grinning, you little shit, you actually find this funny? That's  _it_ _!"_

 

And now, like a fugitive I am fleeing from the scene. Chased, hunted down by my own 'supposed' love, about to suffer for an act of benevolence. Just as I think I have escaped, I am plucked from the ground and taken prisoner in Matt's arms. Being the shorter of the two of us, I am forced to surrender; but not without argument.

 

"No! I am caught so near to freedom, release me giant!"

 

Instead of listening to my reasoning, Matt just walked back to the bed and started snuggling us back under the covers.

 

"Dude you managed to take like three steps. C'mon, more sleep, I don't have a class for a long while yet and I'm not wasting a lie in 'cause you want to doodle on my face."

 

"Well at least you have a moustache for November now, you should be thanking my magnanamo-"

 

...

 

"Kisses are not adequate bribery material. I require pancakes at the very least!"

 

"You certain of that?"

 

...

 

"... Fine, but I still want pancakes."

 

"Sure Sugar. Sure. Just _sleep._ "

 

Even through the sleepy haze that was beginning to descend upon our great artisan, I was still able to make out the distinct line of 'stache on Matt's face. It's a flattering look on him, perhaps I can convince him to grow one out later, much later, after pancakes and coffee.

 

 

 

 


End file.
